


Off to Camp

by InchByInch



Category: Homeland
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fun, Preparing for Camp, Prompt Fill, Silly Summer Fun, parenting angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 07:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11331468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InchByInch/pseuds/InchByInch
Summary: Carrie is hot and stressed about sending Franny away to camp.  Quinn is there for her.





	Off to Camp

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitty7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty7/gifts).



> In the AU, Keane loses the election because her ex-husband is photographed with ice cream on his dick.

“No fucking way.”

“Quinn, you are being ridiculously paranoid.”

“Doesn’t matter. It is not happening. You are not going to sign that permission, or else she can’t go.” Quinn pulled off his mirrored sunglasses and turned to give Carrie a quick glare before returning his attention to driving.

“You wouldn’t do that to her, she is so excited about camp. All the other brownies in the troop are going.” At some level, Carrie knew that this argument had more to do with the terrible heat than her feelings about the media release form for Franny’s Girl Scout camp. The Volvo’s AC couldn’t keep up, and they were both sweating.

Still, she wanted to win.

“Carrie, I am serious, I cannot let that happen. She can’t go if you can’t take it back.”

“For Christ sake, Quinn, it isn’t your decision anyway.”

Shit. Now she’d fucked up. She couldn’t say that and still win the argument. Pointing out that Quinn wasn't technically Franny’s parent was crossing a line she needed to uncross immediately. Fuck!

He was silent.

“Fine. I won't sign the media release form. But don’t think that I’m conceding you have a point because you don’t. There is no way that taking her picture and posting it to the camp website could possibly endanger Franny. I’m sure we’ll be the only parents who are denying the camp permission to post a picture.” Carrie glanced over at Quinn, trying to gauge whether he was mollified by the phrase, “we’ll be the only parents.”

His serious expression didn’t change as he stared straight ahead at the road. At first. After a few minutes, he caved and looked sideways at her. For less than a second, she saw a slight smile. Oh yeah, she’d totally won him over by referring to the two of them as Franny’s parents. Carrie felt proud of her save, even though she knew the true victory was Quinn’s, two victories, really. In addition to getting his way with the camp media release form, he’d got her to acknowledge that he had some claim on Franny. She even felt happy about it, not panicked at the loss of control over her daughter. Instead she felt kind of relieved -- completely annoyed, but also relieved. She wanted full control as a parent, but she knew she needed his help and support. The world at large sure didn’t make it easy for a single mom, and Franny was taking more control over herself anyway. Carrie needed an ally.

The truth was, Carrie was dependent on Quinn’s help and support for EVERYTHING these days. He was acting in every way as a loving father to Franny. He was also Carrie’s best friend and an excellent roommate, even though they didn’t really feel like romantic partners. Not that the sex wasn’t great, it was, but they were absolutely friends with benefits, not lovers. Carrie sometimes wondered whether that situation didn’t stem from the fact that they had been so closely entwined domestically before they began having sex. She talked with his doctors, made his medical appointments, and paid for everything. He was doing the shopping, looking after Franny, and nagging Carrie about being late. Then one day after work, she came downstairs, sat on his bed, took off her clothes, and crawled on top of him. They never even really talked about it, but shortly afterward Quinn began spending every night up in her room.

Now it was their room, they made decisions about Franny together, and they were even partners in business. She’d crossed the legal line one too many times with Reda. So, she and Quinn had recently started their own firm as strategic policy consultants for internationally-based NGO’s. Things were going great, really. All the fuss about romance and expressions of love was for lesser mortals, people who needed to seduce each other just to fuck. Carrie and Quinn were cutting-edge and relevant, not cheesy and sentimental. Right?

Quinn interrupted her thoughts. “The last things on the packing list are ‘fan changing cord’ and ‘stick sunscreen.’ Why does she even need a small fan? This is supposed to be camp. American kids these days are too spoiled.”

“The cabins can get hot. A small, battery-powered fan is an excellent recommendation. Otherwise, she won’t be able to sleep. We have to find a charger for the one I ordered her off of Amazon. What the fuck is the difference between a micro USB and a mini USB? Neither one of them seems like it will fit this charging port.”

“Do you know I once spent the night in a very small, very hot barn in Turkey with a bunch of Syrian refugees? Those kids did not have any trouble sleeping. No fans.”

“Are you suggesting that we hold ourselves to the standard of ‘war refugee’ when we consider what comforts Franny needs? Don’t be ridiculous. Use GoogleMaps on your phone to find the nearest drug store.”

“Carrie, we’ve already been to two different drug stores.”

“I know, let’s hope this will be the last one. Do you think they’ve just stopped manufacturing the stick sunscreens? Or, were the last two places just all out?”

“As long as we are stopping again, we should get another toothpaste. I noticed the travel toothpaste you have for her is a different brand. We should make sure she has the exact same kind we use at home so that she doesn’t have to cope with unfamiliar toothpaste while she’s away.

“Yes, good call.”

Carrie remembered Girl Scout camp as a carefree oasis from all her troubles as a girl, but packing her daughter for camp was the opposite – an absolute nightmare.

First, Carrie hadn’t realized that Franny had completely grown out of all of her summer clothes, like, in the past week. Franny was almost seven years old, but both Carrie and Quinn had feelings about the shortness of Franny’ shorts and the “sexy” cut of the swimsuits marketed to small girls. Shopping for summer clothes was stressful.

The packing list sent by the camp recommended a spare pair of sneakers because one pair was likely to get wet often, but Franny grew out of her shoes too quickly for there to be an older worn-out pair that still fit. So they bought brand new shoes that would barely get worn before becoming too small. Which was perfect really, because those shoes could go in the closet with the $35 patent leather Mary Janes Carrie had purchased for Rosie’s confirmation. Two hours of wear time, and no occasion to put them on since.

And then there were the forms. For months now, Carrie and been fielding an endless series of requests for forms, profile pictures, T-shirt sizes, website logins, and activity choices. And more forms. Carrie had to fill out a separate form granting the councilors permission to apply sunscreen, permission to use the internet during computer coding activity time, and, of course, permission for the camp to publically post Franny’s image if they snapped a picture of her having fun. That was the form Quinn did not want her to sign. He was sure some predator would see Franny’s picture, out of all the pictures on the internet, and become a stalker. Carrie tried to explain that the pictures were for the parents, displayed on a password protected site. Camp rules did not permit cell phones, and the camp catered to modern parents’ need for constant updates by posting pictures. Now, just because Quinn was a technophobe Luddite, Carrie would have to go without a picture of Franny for FIVE WHOLE DAYS!

Just when she was about to start yelling at him again for all these frustrations, Quinn’s cell phone rang.

“Peter Quinn… What do you mean, the fax of the bug spray permission form is too blurry?... Can you repeat that number so that we can resend it? Yes, we’ll have it to you in the next hour.” He hung up and looked at her. “Fuck.”

That summed up Carrie’s feelings entirely. Maybe the worst thing about this moment was dreading Franny’s absence. Carrie would be out of contact with her DAUGHTER for five days. Fuck that. How had Quinn even agreed to this nightmare? She knew he was even less happy about it than she was. The impending separation was probably a big part of why she and Quinn were at each other’s throats. Also, of course, the heat, and weren’t they overdue to stop for some lunch? The worst was that they were both hungry. No. The worst thing was that it was SO FUCKING HOT.

 ****** 

Twenty-four hours later, Carrie sat next to Quinn in their living room, both of them focused on their laptops, but Carrie wasn’t really working. Instead, she reflected that the worst thing wasn’t getting ready for camp, the worst thing was having Franny GONE. Quinn had rescued her yesterday, as usual. He agreed to let her sign the media release waiver. They’d gotten the right toothpaste and sunscreen and fan charger and had even scanned in the new bug spray form on time. But Franny had left this afternoon, and the brownstone seemed so quiet with just the two of them. Ending work each day normally meant transitioning into Franny’s world, a world where the change of seasons was miraculous, every dog that passed on the street was an exciting opportunity, and the music of the ice cream truck was the Best. Thing. Ever.

More importantly, Franny needed a stable routine. Carrie and Quinn took time to make and eat dinner as a family, followed by cleaning up, playing together, bath, story time, and lights out. Everything happened easily, all three of them carried along by the predictable pattern. It was relaxing. Without Franny, the routine disappeared and Carrie felt lost.

“Hey, why don’t I take you out to dinner tonight?”

Carrie looked up, confused. “Why? Shouldn’t we order take-out and just keep working? With Franny gone, we have a real chance to get ahead.”

“I thought it would be nice to take a break, you know do something together…” He trailed off.

“OK, that sounds good. You want to order Thai and watch the next episode of _The Americans_?”

“No, I mean, like go out on a date.”

“A date? We’re going to have sex after watching _The Americans_ like usual, right? What else do you want to do?”

“A date, Carrie.”

“We’ve never gone on a date.”

“Right. We’ve n-never done a lot of things that we probably should do. I mean, I l-love Franny, I love our work, our lives, but… we’re always so busy a-and focused on getting everything done. We are a-alone for 5 days. We should s-spend some time… together?”

“We’re always together.”

Quinn lost patience. “We stop work at 5:00. Take a break, relax, get r-ready. I’m making reservations at a nice, non-kid-friendly, Italian place downtown for 7:00.” He went back to his laptop.

“Huh,” replied Carrie. She kept looking at Quinn thoughtfully. “Is this about wanting to be more ‘normal,’ like Franny is always harping about?”

“No, Carrie, I don’t want to be normal, I just want us to be… more than good friends.”

“We’re BEST friends,” she corrected him, then she raised her eyebrow quizzically. “Do you want to be more adventurous sexually?”

“I’m very happy with our sex life, Carrie, I just want… Just let me take you out on a date. Humor me.”

Carrie was quiet again. Quinn went back to answering his emails, but he looked up when Carrie shut her laptop. “Thank you, Quinn. I’d love to go on a date with you. I’m going to go start getting ready right now.” She stood and went upstairs.

 

After dinner, as they walked hand in hand through the warm evening, Carrie thought she knew exactly what Quinn was talking about. She’d been unconsciously associating romance with insincere flowers and chocolates, but at the same time, she’d been missing a feeling that they both really wanted each other. Well, obviously she knew Quinn wanted her, but somehow she’d fallen into the habit of assuming that when they reached for each other, they both really wanted an orgasm, not so much _each other._

Tonight, Quinn had really made an effort to be attentive to her, like she deserved special treatment, and she’d tried to respond in kind. At first it was totally awkward. They were used to talking about the logistics of caring for Franny and about work. But as the evening progressed, they slowly relaxed. They told old stories, made toasts to long-gone friends and laughed. They didn’t usually laugh together – they just huffed at their shared perspective on the absurdity of life. But their conversation as they strolled together after dinner was basically a long string of laughter occasionally interrupted by words:

“I am telling the honest-to-God truth. The paramedics actually believed Max was my business manager.”

“Well, who could blame them, you looked so business-y. I mean, that was right at the peak of the whole refusing-to-shower phase, wasn’t it?”

“God, yes! Jesus, I was trying to buy baby wipes to clean myself! That was the same day I threw a mug through the fucking window and you were just like ‘Great. Now I can reach the lock.’ You are impossible to intimidate.”

“You like that about me.”

“I do. I really do. Except sometimes.” He stopped and turned towards her with a huge smirk.

She turned towards him and gave up on any attempt not to smile like a giant dork. “So, I’m enjoying this date. What’s next?”

“Well, we could get a room at a nice hotel, take a stay-cation?”

“Hmm. Tempting,” she made a provocative face at him, “but I’d rather put the money in the ‘office space fund.’ Also, I’m not sure that it’s necessary. You’ve already made tonight extremely special. Even in our own bed, it won’t be like after _The Americans_ last week.”

“Oh yeah? How so? Give me details.”

“Oh no, I’m going with ‘mysterious’ as part of it.”

He used his right hand to lift his left hand up to rest on her shoulder, where his increasingly mobile left fingers could then stroke her neck, her chin, her ear. God, she loved his large hands. Then he cradled her cheek with his right hand and he moved his face down close to hers so that their foreheads touched as he looked down at her. “Carrie.” He knew the sound of his voice aroused her. She took a deep trembling breath as she moved her mouth against the spot on his neck that she knew was the most sensitive. He hummed appreciatively and trailed his right hand down her spine to push her hips against his and tilted his head down for a kiss. She parted her lips immediately a gave the tiniest high-pitched sigh. They kissed slowly, enjoying each sensation, but soon his hands all over her body made her desire more urgent, more intense. She was consumed by a sense of recklessness she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Yeah, OK, nearest hotel room. I don’t want to sit in the back of an Uber for a 40-minute ride home, I just want to find a bed and get in it.”

“Agreed.” Quinn grabbed her hand and led her down the street faster than she could keep up. Ten minutes later they were kissing in the elevator, in the hallway, and finally closing the door behind them in their hotel room.

“This is crazy, we live together and we are kissing like teenagers.” Carry was laughing.

“Mmmm.” Quinn replied. He pulled his head back so that he could look her in the eyes. “I wanted tonight to be slow so that you can feel how much I care for you.”

“Oh yeah?” He was efficiently taking off her dress. God, that man was more coordinated with one-and-a-half hands that Carrie was with two.

“Yeah, I’m ditching the ‘slow’ part of that plan.” His own clothes were quickly disappearing as well. Honestly, there had been times lately when they didn’t even bother taking all their clothes off and appreciating each other’s bodies, so they were doing great even without going slow.

“I do feel cared for. You were right, this is just what we needed.” She lay back on the bed and gently pulled him beside her, nibbling on his ear and moving her hand along his neck, his chest, his torso, down to where he was hard and waiting for her. She only turned her nails onto his skin a little bit along the way. He groaned.

“Carrie.” Suddenly Quinn pulled himself out of his daze. He rolled on top of her and pushed himself up with his right hand so that he could clearly look into her face. He had something to tell her. “That’s not what I wanted to say.”

She looked at him in surprise, then thought for a minute. “You don’t care for me?” She was confused.

“I need to tell you how much I _love_ you, Carrie. I love you. I really do. So much.”

He had never said it before. She hadn’t said it either, it was just … assumed. Wasn’t it? Suddenly Carrie felt dizzy. Even though she was lying down, she thought she might faint. “Quinn…” her voice seemed to give out like she was sobbing, but she wasn’t. “Oh, Quinn...” He interrupted her words with a passionate kiss, leaving her completely breathless. She pulled back and guided him to roll over so that she lay on top of him and she pressed her face against his chest. They both lay together, out of breath.

Now she pulled up and looked him in the eye. “I love you, too. I do.”

For a moment, neither of them moved at all. They just looked into each other’s eyes. Then he did move and it was as though a dam broke. She never thought he was holding back in their lovemaking, but this was definitely different. He rolled over on top of her again, and his hands, his mouth, his voice, his body –- she thought she could feel every part of him all at once. She was overwhelmed and crying wordlessly even before his fingers slipped inside her and started brushing her clitoris. He knew exactly how to make her come, but he hesitated, looked again right into her eyes and said it: “I love you.” His words sent her over the edge, which was unexpected to both of them. Before she could feel again, she pulled him inside her, using her hands to beg him for harder, stronger thrusts. “I love you, Quinn. I love you. I love you.” This time, they weren’t so surprised that he came in response.

Afterward, they pulled each other as close and tight as they could, still joined, while they panted together in a sweaty tangle. Slowly their bodies relaxed, their breathing slowed and he eased out of her. He kissed her hair and they moved to cuddle in a more comfortable position.

“Oh my God,” Carrie whispered.

“Shh,” said Quinn. “Franny’s gone for five days. We have time.”

Right before she fell asleep, Carrie briefly wondered whether Franny would like to go away for the two-week camp next summer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to Pinkys143 for beta reading!


End file.
